You're allowed to mess up
I'm one day late with my newsletter, I'm sorry!
But I have a good, raspberry-coloured excuse for it: I've been painting.
Painting the walls in our home (my bedroom/office, to be exact).
When we moved into our new place last December, I knew right away that I wanted to change the olive green colour of the walls.
The colour isn't bad; it's just not us.
For one, olive green isn't a colour I would ever choose myself.
The other reason is that I don't feel like a house is truly my home until I have painted it myself. I want to put my stamp on it, mark my territory, express my individuality with colour.
I have waited until now because I had the hardest time making up my mind. What colour to choose? I simply couldn't make a decision. That's not usually something I have trouble with, and I wondered:
Where did the sudden fear of making a mistake come from?
Because that was my problem: I was worried that I would make the wrong choice. That it would look worse after I was done.
So, I hummed and hawed. I went to the paint store 3 times to pick up little paint samples, one can at a time, putting fat strokes on the wall and examining it, trying to figure out how I felt about it.
I couldn't decide.
I've always gravitated towards bright, cheerful colours: Rich reds, warm oranges, cheerful yellows, soft pinks. I love sunsets, and I adore sunset colours.
But, subconsciously, I think I tried to fit into the neighbourhood. And the houses we have been to are all tasteful, understated, and - neutral. It's all in 50 shades of beige.
I've always been convinced that I would never jump on the beige-train, no matter how clever the names of the paint colours are: almond, vanilla, cafe au lait, Holy Grail.
In the end, they are all varying shades of beige, and beige is not a "colour" that inspires happiness or creativity!
And yet - I contemplated it. I'm blushing just thinking about it.
Last weekend was my "deadline": I had to set one to get my ass in gear. In a state of panicky indecision, I stood in front of the rainbow wall at the store for what felt like the thousandth time, looking at the rows and rows of paint cards.
What to choose?
In the end, I went with a (for me) safe choice: Mango madness. It's a vivid orange, a colour I have used repeatedly in our old home.
It was - okay. But I wasn't really excited about it. To make it look more interesting, I experimented with adding some texture and depth by adding long brush strokes of a lighter-coloured glaze. Still meh.
By this time it was 10pm last night, and I hadn't even started on the newsletter yet. I was exhausted and disappointed, and went to bed to sleep on it.
This morning, I woke up and I knew what I had wanted all along: A beautiful, dusty pink. I've wanted a pink room for ages, but never had the courage to do it.
But, as I was standing in the room, coffee cup in hand, critically looking at the offending walls, I made 3 important decisions:
1. I would do me. And I'm not a beige person, and never will be.
2. It's okay to mess up. This was fixable.
3. Life is too short not to have pink walls.
So, I went back to the paint store (the fifth time in five days, all the employees recognize me by now), and without hesitation, I knew exactly what colour I wanted: A deep, beautiful pink.
I finished it 2 hours ago, and it makes me so happy! It's too dark now to take a decent photo of it, but I will take photos for the blog and post them soon.
It's not for everybody, but it feels very much me.
What's the lesson of this long-winded and slightly boring story?*
*Sorry about that. That's what painting 6 (!!) coats in 2 days will do to your brain.
To stay true to yourself, and to take risks once in a while.
Even if the risk is a small one like a paint colour ;-)
Happy Monday night! May you look at the rest of this week through rose-coloured glasses. I know I will!
xoxo Miriam
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Vol. 10